Shooting Practice
by CameronZinner
Summary: A very sweaty Ryan Evans walks into the East High gymnasium after a jog. And to his pleasant surprise, Chad Danforth is doing layups on the court. Shirtless. A multi-chapter Chad/Ryan one-shot. Rated M for super steamy boy-on-boy action and coarse language. Please review!


**Disclaimer: **I do not own High School Musical or any of the characters. Before you go on, I just have to tell you that A) this fic takes place in senior year and B) I have never played basketball in my life so forgive me if my terminology is not accurate. Enjoy!

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It's a quarter after four on a muggy Tuesday afternoon and a very sweaty Ryan Evans, in a muscle tee and a pair of _super_ short-shorts, strolls through the East High hallways towards the gymnasium. He's just finished fifteen laps around the track and a couple of cardio cool-down stretches. An ice-cold shower would be more than ideal right about now.

Even before he opens the gym door, he swears he can hear sneakers squeaking across the court and the steady bounce of a basketball.

That's _odd_, Ryan thinks. Basketball practices never run after school on Tuesdays. (And he would know more than anyone else. In fact, he used to hide in the bleachers and spy on the East High team when they practiced until a very nosy janitor outed him to the coach.)**  
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Ryan pushes the heavy gym door open, and to his very pleasant surprise, Chad Danforth is doing layups on the court. _Shirtless_. He has to remind himself that what he's seeing is not one of his masturbatory hallucinations.

It's difficult for Ryan Evans to keep himself from grinning. It's also difficult to walk with a boner when he's wearing the shortest short-shorts known to mankind, but he manages to get right up near the practicing player and seat himself quietly in the first row of the bleachers.

The view is great from where he's sitting: Chad, with his fro bouncing gingerly with each dribble of the basketball, the muscles in his back flexing and relaxing when he raises the ball for a shot, the polyester mesh of his shorts doing his round ass perfect justice.

The basketball star moves with precision across the court. Still oblivious to his one-man (and very aroused) audience, Chad approaches the basket from the right, beginning with a slow jog while dribbling and finally breaking out into a sprint. At the last possible moment, he pushes his feet off the floor and leaps into the air with a knee-jerk movement, releasing the ball from his hands. It hits the backboard and falls swiftly through the net with a satisfying _swoosh _sound.

The ball bounces towards Ryan, and when Chad turns around the look on his face is a mix of surprise and confusion. Their eyes lock for a moment – just a moment, because Ryan can't help but make eye contact with Chad's nipples.

"Is it hot in here or _what_," Ryan says before the other can say anything, his eyes scanning Chad's brawny front up and down.

"What are you doing here?" Chad says. He grabs the ball mid-bounce and holds it between his strong hands. Ryan just smiles slyly and cocks his head to the side, still very much engrossed by Chad's torso – his broad pecs, the hairs on his abs, how shiny it all looks by the artificial light of the gymnasium.

"Why does it matter?" Ryan shrugs, resting his chin on his palm. "Don't like it when people watch you practice?"

"Hm?" Chad says, as he studies the basketball in his hands, and then looks up. "No."

He bounces the ball awkwardly, just twice, and then rests it between his inner elbow and his hip. "You're still here."

"Your point?"

"School's been out for about an hour."

"I know. And yet you're still here as well."

Chad grins and continues bouncing the ball. "_Touché._"

Ryan smiles, briefly glancing at his manicured nails. "Ms. Darbus needed some help cleaning up after last night's theater workshop."

"Oh."

"Yea. I thought I'd just do a few laps around the track afterwards. You know. Finish the day off on a good note."

"Sounds..._fun_..." Chad says with a smirk. He turns his back to Ryan and attempts another lay up – this time from the left – but the ball hits the hoop and bounces away in the other direction.

Ryan chuckles. "I think you've got performance anxiety."

Chad does a double-take as he jogs back to the mid-court line, dribbling the ball in defeat.

"How far can you shoot?" Ryan says, studying the curve of Chad's butt as he bends his knees in preparation for a three-pointer.

"Watch this," Chad says, eyes fixed on the net. He bounces the ball four times, and without any warning he leaps up, as though someone has snuck a trampoline under his feet. His legs straighten out, the muscles in his calves tense and release, and the ball leaves his finger tips and soars in an almost perfect arch towards the net. _Almost _perfect, because Chad's miscalculated his aim and the ball hits the rim and comes flying back towards his face. He catches it before it can touch the ground and dribbles it again, a little more furiously this time.

"Maybe you're just nervous 'cause I'm here," Ryan says, his voice echoing throughout the gym.

Chad stops bouncing the ball and looks Ryan right in the eyes incredulously. "Why would I be _nervous_?"

"I don't know," Ryan chuckles, looking at his own sneakers and then back at Chad. "Maybe you _like _me." A joke, yes, but somehow Ryan secretly wants that to be true.

Chad shakes his head and smiles. "In your dreams, Ryan." Another attempt at a three-pointer. Another miss.

In your dreams.

Of_ course_, in his dreams. Ryan Evans has been dreaming about Chad Danforth since the day he set eyes on him on the first day of freshman year. The attraction was instant – though not to his personality, because Ryan knows for a fact that Chad can be a complete jerk. The crush is something a lot more carnal, driven solely by the desire to get laid by the co-captain of the basketball team.

There was never a question for Ryan of "if I ever get to suck Chad's dick", but "_when_", because he knows that Chad must be bisexual at the least. His gaydar has had an impeccable track record thus far (except for that one time with the captain of the water-polo team. There really are straight men who listen to Madonna on blast and wear fluorescent pink thongs. Who would have thought?) And rumor has it that someone found an issue of "Sausage Fest XXX" in Chad's gym bag. Then again, there was also a rumor going around that Gabriella Montez used to be a stripper in Reno, so he's not exactly sure that source can be trusted.

In the time Ryan has been staring at Chad, he hasn't got the ball in the net once. It's pitiful. But there's also something strangely arousing about watching someone try so hard to shoot a basketball just to impress you. Especially when they're shirtless. And sweaty. And _hot_.

"Let me try," Ryan says at last, standing up from the bleachers and skipping onto the court.

"What?" Chad says, just as he was about to try a layup, and turns around.

"I bet I can shoot better than you," Ryan says, and in a moment of pure boldness he takes off his muscle tee and chucks it to his seat – making him the second sweaty shirtless person in the school gymnasium. "Gimme the ball."

For a second Ryan swears he sees Chad's eyes falter down to his bare chest.

"You're not serious," Chad snickers.

"Of course I'm serious," Ryan snaps back with his hands on his hips.

Chad holds his hand to his lips to stop himself from laughing, but it's in vain. "Whatever you say dude."

"Quit stalling and pass me the ball, stupid."

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, because Chad chest passes him the ball and Ryan almost flies backwards.

He can feel the weight of eyes on him as he balances himself and bounces the ball, slowly, each thud against the court reverberating in the vastness of the gym. He's trying to recall every basketball drill he's seen while spying through the bleachers, but unfortunately he was too busy checking out the players. Right now it seems like _he's _the one doing the stalling.

Well, there isn't any backing out now.

Ryan fakes left, but Chad is two steps ahead of him with his knees bent and his hands out like he's ready to pounce. Ryan fakes right, but Chad flinches to the right and Ryan quickly realizes this isn't going to be easy.

So he decides to freeze altogether, standing there with the ball like a wax-statue. Maybe if he stands there long enough, Chad will lower his guard.

And so he waits, probably for around twenty seconds before he makes a break for it and runs to the left. He doesn't even bother bouncing the ball. Ryan just sprints from the mid-court line as fast as his legs will take him, looping right around the three-point line until he gets as close as he can to the net.

And just when he's ready to leap up on his toes and launch the ball into the air, he feels two strong arms grab his lithe body from behind and squeeze him tight.

"_Hey!_" Ryan says, squirming and unable to control his laughter. Chad's got him in a very tight backwards bear hug and he feels him breath down the back of his neck. "I'm pretty sure that's a technical foul."

Chad just keeps him like that, laughing as well, and Ryan wants to stay in this exact position forever – his bare back against Chad's bare chest, their skin sticking together.

But there's something else within this frenzy that catches the two of them completely off guard.

Ryan Evans knows a cock when he feels one. And being this close, he can feel the outline of Chad's ill-timed boner pressed into his ass, and the two of them seem to realize it at the same time because Chad immediately lets him go and forgets about the shooting deal altogether.

"I'm gonna go change," Chad says abruptly, snatching the ball from Ryan and tossing it into the open storage room.

"Well I guess I will too."

"Change rooms are only for the basketball team, remember?" Chad says, grabbing his dented aluminum water bottle from the bleachers.

"I know," Ryan says, completely flushed and trying to catch up with Chad. "The basketball team _plus _Ryan Evans."

"And who said you can?"

"Coach Bolton. I asked him if I could use the change rooms after my jogs and he said I can."

"Coach Bolton never lets anyone other than the basketball team use the change-rooms," Chad retorts sternly.

"I have my ways. Let's just say I'm _very _persuasive," Ryan says, and winks at Chad but he doesn't seem to catch it. Negotiations with Coach Bolton had been a complete success even if they cost him his favorite lilac silk briefs. He's been trying to get that pesky semen stain out for weeks.

As the two of them near the door of the locker room, Ryan can barely contain himself. Beyond that door, he's going to be changing with _the _Chad Danforth. The mere idea of it would be enough to jack-off to for the next two months.


End file.
